This morning, I had to tell my dad that his dad was dying.
My grandpa's been sick for a while - in fact, my dad just returned from China where he was visiting his parents and brothers - but now my grandpa's on his deathbed (I don't know if he's passed yet), and my cousin Skyped me to let me know. He asked that I let my dad know so he could call home. So I called my dad at work.
I was never close with my paternal grandparents, a product of having grown up in a different country and visiting far too infrequently. I feel bad that I never knew them better - but mostly I am upset because my dad is clearly upset (and I have rarely seen him upset this way), because it's his father, because it means one day I'll be in that position and it's terrifying.
My mom lost her father when I was 9, but I don't think I was old enough then to really understand.
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